Safe Haven
by RachaelPuffinFace
Summary: Sophia's relationship with her father is nearly non-existent. They haven't spoken in over seven years. But, when people start going missing, people just like her, he offers her safety and an opportunity greater than she could have ever asked for. (Steve/OC)
1. Ch 1: Reunited

**Chapter One: Reunited**

With nothing but a brick wall before him and the pounding of enemy boots to his back, he knew it was the end. He was beat. After weeks on the run they had finally caught up to him and there was nothing that could be done to stop them.

He heard them surround the only exit long before any of them showed their faces, but didn't dare turn around. Whether they dragged him away kicking and screaming like the young boy in Idaho or killed him like the housewife in Arizona, he didn't care. Either way he had lost and life as he knew it was now over.

The scuffing of a single pair of shoes on the uneven pavement caught his attention. Still he did not turn. It was only when the person was no less than three feet away that he began to pray, but not for himself. He prayed for his wife, for their daughter, for his family that they would be fine. That they would be safe without him there.

The pain didn't sink in until after his vision started going. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness not knowing if he would ever wake again. Not knowing why these men had done the things they had.

* * *

The rhythmic sound of glasses and bottles hitting polished wood tabletops echoed up along the bar as I entered the smoky room. It was only about six o'clock, and yet there was already a row of inebriated patrons lined up in their stools.

There was always something sad about the men who drowned out their sorrows with a bottle of ale, the haunted look of pain in their eyes reminded me far too well of another pair of equally tortured ones from years ago.

By eight o'clock the pace began to pick up. This was always the time when boisterous business men came in to shoot the breeze or barely legal drinkers would forgo their sobriety for a bit of fun. I mixed up drinks with a flurry and traded booze for bills, forcing a smile on my face or a laugh at a joke when needed. A happy server got tipped well.

It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes into the rush that my coworker, Danny, approached me.

"Hey, Soph, I'm sorry but I've gotta take off." My hand stilled on the tap, half filled glass of beer nearly forgotten in my grip as I stared at him incredulously.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah, I've just got this thing I need to get to, so could you just cover for me for a bit?" Liquor sloshed over the rim eliciting slurred complaints from the men at the bar as I set the glass down with more force than necessary.

"A thing? You have a thing to go to..."

"Well, yeah-" I pulled him away from the counter and lowered my voice to a whisper.

"Danny, I'm only part-time here, do you know how that works?. I'm only scheduled for another hour or so, and then I go home. You, on the other hand, are scheduled for the rest of the night. Now you're telling me you have to leave to do a 'thing'?"

"Come on, Soph, it's only for a little while. I'll be back before your shift even ends." He smiled disarmingly at me, a dimple showing through on his right cheek. With Daniel's tan complexion and bright eyes – not to mention a boyish grin that could make any schoolgirl swoon – it was hard for anyone to say no. Unfortunately for him, I was a grown woman and had learned a long time ago to look past charming smiles.

"No. Not unless you tell me what this 'thing' is and I decide it's a good enough reason." He faltered and heaved an annoyed sigh, obviously not used to being rejected like this.

"A friend invited me for a get-together over at Delta." I couldn't help the scoff that followed, nor could I wipe the look of irritation off my face.

"Wait, are you telling me you want me to work extra time and cover for your ass just so you can go to some college party?" An angry shout sounded from somewhere to the right as one customer tried to get our attention. Marcy, a relatively new employee came over to take care of them, realizing Danny and I wouldn't be seeing to them any time soon.

"Hey, I work almost every single night. I never get to go do anything social anymore. All I'm asking is for one night – no – an hour, two tops, do go out and have some fun. Is that really too much to ask for?"

"Yes. You took this job knowing you would be working nights. The way I see it, it's your fault. Go ask Marcy if you want, but I'm not covering for you. I have to go home as soon as I'm off." I could see the frustration growing in his face each time I shot him down but stood my ground firmly.

"Marcy can't cover me, she's still learning and she'll end up working alone after you leave."

"Then that's too bad. I'm sorry Danny, but there's nothing I can do." I turned to leave but he grabbed my arm and turned me back toward him, placing both hands on my shoulders before speaking.

"Please, Sohie? I swear, I'll be back by the end of your shift and I'll owe you one." I felt my resistance falter slightly at the desperation in his face.

"Danny...-" He got down on one knee with a flourish and spoke in a dramatic yet soft voice.

"Sophia Annette St-"

"OK!"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, fine. As long as you sto-" A poorly hidden cheer cut me off. "But! But, you had better be back no later than 10:30, am I clear?"

"Yes! Yes, thank you so much, you don't know how much this means." He hugged me tightly before I could remind him of my personal boundaries and took off long before I could finish what I was saying. Plastering on what I hoped to be an apologetic smile, I returned to serving the thirsty customers.

* * *

A pair of brown eyes watched from behind their shades as two of the bartenders argued behind the counter. As their whispers grew louder and their irritation grew, the eyes never left them, or rather, her. Every move she made, everything she did was carefully captured by calculating eyes.

* * *

It was 11:08 by the time I began feeling the rage bubble to the surface. I needed to go home over an hour ago. I had already called Julia – twice – and each time she assured me that it was fine, but I just hated keeping her so long. As soon as I saw Danny again I swore I would throttle him, even if the little voice in the back of my mind kept telling me this was partially my fault.

I ran the rag along the counter top for a third time in the last five minutes, trying to work the tension out of my body. The bar was mostly empty by this point and I considered leaving Marcy here to look after things so I could return home, but for all I knew this could just be the calm before the storm. So I waited.

Looking around at some of the customers was probably the only thing I remotely enjoyed about this job. For each one I would make up a scenario in my head – why they're here, their job, if they've got a family at home. In most cases the first one is the easiest to figure out. Those who come to forget their problems for a while, the ones who come in search of a good time, and plenty of other types of people. But there was one man whose intent was not evident.

In the far corner situated in a booth all alone was a man wearing a plain brown coat and a baseball cap with his face hidden behind a pair of cheap sunglasses and a glass of amber liquid. Rather than looking lonely or as if he were escaping reality he appeared to be perfectly content just sitting and watching the world pass him by.

As I dragged the damp rag over the bar top for a fourth time he looked my way. There was a moment as I stared back at him that I thought I saw something familiar in the shape of his face or the bridge of his nose. Just as quickly as I had started relating the face I saw before me to one from many years ago, the man stood up, paid his tab and left the building. I couldn't help but stare after the man with a faint feeling of awe and nervous energy boiling up in the pit of my stomach. He looked so much like him that I couldn't help but gape like a deer in the headlights.

"Hey, Soph!" Danny walked behind the bar, a big smile on his face. I scowled at him in response. "Look, I know I'm a bit late-"

"You're over an hour late Danny."

"Alright, I know that, but I'm here now so you can go home, alright?" I sighed and rubbed at the throbbing point on my head. I needed sleep. I needed fresh air. I just needed to get home.

"Fine, I'll overlook it this time, but I'm never covering for you again Danny."

"And I won't ask you to. Now go home." I wanted to tell him that I knew this was not going to be the last time, but the thought of going home overpowered my need to scold him.

"Yeah, sure. See you. Bye Marcy!"

* * *

"What do you mean she saw you?"

"I mean _she saw me_!" The man paced back and forth before his partner, unsure of how to go about this.

"She shouldn't have gotten the chance to see you at all! You were told to stay put and you disobeyed. You may have just ruined everything."

"How could I have ruined everything? Just because she saw me doesn't mean she recognized me."

"It doesn't matter. If you scared her even in the slightest she could run." The man stopped in his tracks and thought this over.

"I know her. I doubt she'll run."

"You mean you _knew_ her. Seven years is a long time Stark." Brown eyes met blue ones as the two stared each other down.

"She's my daughter. I knew her pretty damn well back then and I know her pretty damn well now." The taller man took a step forward so their chests were nearly touching.

"If you know her so well, why haven't you talked her in nearly a decade?" The man had no response. "I guess we have no choice now but to speed things up."

* * *

The cloud of booze and stale cigarettes that surrounded me was suffocating as I entered the apartment building. I lived on the fourth floor but since the elevator hasn't worked in three months my weary feet began climbing. By the time I finally reached the top I considered the pros and cons of falling asleep out in the hall but couldn't stand the idea of leaving Julia waiting up any longer.

"Julia?" I called out her name in a loud whisper hoping I wouldn't wake anyone. A few short moments later and the young college student was standing before me. She lived just down the hall and was nearly perfect to a fault. She also didn't mind strange hours or staying over until midnight which made her perfect for the job.

"Hello Miss-"

"No 'Miss', remember? We're nearly the same age so it makes me feel weird. Just call me Sophie."

"Alright, Sophie." She still sounded tentative about being on a first name basis, but I ignored it for now.

"So, how did everything go? No problems?"

"None what-so-ever."

"OK, good. Thank you so much. And sorry again for keeping you so late."

"It's no trouble at all. It actually gave me enough time to finish up on some homework, so it all worked out."

"I'm glad. You should head home now, I've kept you up far too long." She assured me it was alright again and I handed her her pay – plus a little extra for her troubles – and locked the door behind her.

What I really wanted now was a warm shower and a cup of tea, but I doubted I could keep my eyes open long enough for the water to heat up. Instead I headed to the first room past the living room and peaked around the door. The deep breaths coming from the mound in the bed instantly put me at ease. As gently as I could I stuck the little leg back under the blankets and pulled the covers up to her chin. With one small kiss on my daughter's forehead I headed off to bed for some much needed sleep.

* * *

"Grace? Come on honey, you breakfast is getting cold." I heard a crayon being set down as I flipped a pancake over onto its raw underbelly. Soon the little pitter patter of feet was heard just before a sweet little head of curls appeared. Clutched in her small hand was a small stack of papers, no doubt her latest drawings.

"Can I have powdered sugar on mine?"

"I thought you didn't like them like that? And is that paper from the printer?"

"I love them with powdered sugar, I hate them with jelly."

"OK, at least that's one question answered. So what are the pictures of today?" I placed a plate of pancakes and eggs before her, a small glass of milk already there, as she flipped over the papers. I listened as she told me about the neighbor's dog and the smiling sun drawn in yellow crayon enthusiastically. She had just turned to begin eating when I stopped her. "Wait, what's this one?" There was one more paper being partially hidden by the others that she had ignored altogether.

"Oh, that's the man."

"The man? What man?"

"The nice man who's going to take us somewhere safe. See?" She held up the drawing for me to see. It was a crudely drawn stick figure who was wearing some strange red outfit. The only thing I could tell for sure was that he had facial hair and appeared to be somewhere in space.

"Honey, why would we need to go someplace safe? You don't think we're safe here?" She stared back at me for a moment, mouth tight and eyes screwed up as if she were deep in thought. This has happened before, plenty of times. I ask her about a drawing or a story she was telling and she would go silent for a few moments, as if she were trying to find the best words for what she had to say.

"Well... right now we're safe. Can I eat now?"

"Of course, baby." And so we ate in peace, the conversation already forgotten.

* * *

I had dropped Grace off at school an hour ago, only now getting into work. By night I may be a bartender, but my day job was at a small diner down the street from home. Compared to the bar this place was dead. Of course we got plenty of customers throughout the day and not _all_ of them were there for the early bird special, but there was a calm about the place that I didn't get working with drunks.

With my apron and name card in place I began to take orders. Many of the people here were regulars whom I had served before. They would ask about my daughter and tell me about their latest activities. I may not be a 'people person' but I loved these talks I had with the customers. The bell above the door made me stop what I was doing.

"Hello, welcome to-" The words died in my throat as I realized the man was not a regular. In fact, he was someone I hadn't seen in nearly seven years. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too." He smiled calmly, obviously expecting this kind of welcome. I, on the other hand, was anything but calm.

"No, how did you find me?"

"Ever stop to think that maybe I came in here for a burger and happened to find you?"

"You want me to believe that you would come all the way here just for a _burger_?"

"Well-"

"And on top of that," I cut him off, "you don't seem surprised at all to see me..." He stepped forward just as Joe came out of the back.

"Is everything alright out here Soph?" Joe was a pretty big boy whose presence alone could scare off nearly every problem we had. Unfortunately I doubted he would be frightened so easily.

"It's fine, Joe. He's my father." I quickly grabbed him and dragged him to a booth on the deserted side of the restaurant. "I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?" He leaned back in his seat, acting like he was completely at ease. In his eyes, however, I could see something I couldn't quite place. Anxiety? Nerves? I wasn't sure.

"What, a father can't visit his daughter at work?" I crossed my arms and stared back at him. "Fine, so maybe my coming here isn't so simple."

"How did you even find me? It's been over seven years and we haven't even talked."

"I have my ways." He leaned forward, suddenly serious. "Sophia, I need you to come with me."

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Because-"

"Excuse me, are you Tony Stark?" A young girl had approached our table. She was probably around seventeen years old with a piercing on her lower lip. He looked annoyed at the sudden interruption.

"Yes I am, now if you'll excuse us-"

"Oh my god, you said he was your father, right? So you're Tony Stark's daughter!" I felt a sudden headache coming on and rubbed at a spot just above my eyebrows where the throbbing had started.

"Unfortunately..." I muttered. My dad frowned at me but the girl didn't even seem to notice. "Listen, could you please give us some space? We're trying to talk right now."

"Oh, right! Sorry about that." She left us, albeit slowly, and I turned back to him.

"Unfortunately?"

"That doesn't matter right now. I don't know why you want me to go with you to, wherever it is we would be going, but I can't go with you."

"Listen, Soph, I don't think you understand-"

"No, I think I do. I'm staying here, though, and that's final." I went to stand up but he pulled me back down and leaned in close so he could whisper.

"No, you don't. People are going missing, Sophie."

"What do you mean 'going missing'?"

"I mean, disappearing, and not all of them get taken the easy way."

"You're not making any sense-"

"Would you just listen!" He furrowed his brow in concentration and I was surprised to see the same look that I had seen grace my daughter's face so many times on his face as well. I wondered if I ever got the same look too... "Look, we can't talk here, OK?"

"OK, then leave. I have work to do."

"No, you and I are going somewhere private to talk things over. You're in danger, Soph, and I'm trying to help you." I took in the sincerity in his gaze and groaned, knowing the curiosity outmatched my anger.

"Fine, let me just go tell my boss that I need the rest of the day off." Soon enough we were standing outside of my apartment. Grace wouldn't be out of school for another three and a half hours, so we should be safe to talk here.

"I just don't understand why no one has fixed the elevator if it's been broken for that long."

"Just be quiet, the exercise is good for you." Unlocking the door, we walked in. The place was small and cluttered, but felt like home all the same. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

"People have been disappearing-"

"You said that already."

"People like you. And you really should stop interrupting people, it's rude."

"What do you mean people like me?" He stepped closer.

"I mean people who are just like you." I couldn't grasp quite what he was saying, even if the words were crystal clear. I had buried that part of me long ago to lay forgotten somewhere no one would find out.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with this."

"I don't-"

"Mommy, is it time to go?" The small voice startled both of us as Grace walked into the room.

"Mommy?"

"Grace! What are you doing here? Why aren't you in school?"

"I didn't go today."

"What?"

"You have a daughter?" I ignored him and stared at my little girl in confusion.

"But I dropped you off this morning and even walked you up to the front."

"Yeah, but I came back home right after."

"Why would you do something like that?"

"Because I needed to pack for our trip."

"What trip?"

"The one he came here to tell you about." She pointed one small finger behind me and I turned to face my father, who I had nearly forgotten in the midst of this conversation.

"Honey, how do you know about him?"

"I told you, the nice man was going to come to take us somewhere safe."

"How did you-"

"Sophia." The stern voice behind me brought my attention back to the man beside me. "You have a daughter?" I stood up straighter, used to the looks people would give me when they found out I had a six year old daughter at the age of twenty-three.

"Yes." He looked like he was struggling with this new information, but once his eyes met mine again, I could only see determination.

"Then wouldn't it be best to come with me and keep her safe?"


	2. Ch 2: Pit Stop

**Chapter Two: Pit Stop**

How can someone possibly pack up their whole life, the possibility of a future, all of it in only a matter of hours? Bags were packed, all signs of a happy existence already gone. All that was left was a worn sofa and whatever had been left in the kitchen. Grace sat contentedly on the floor near the door, her poor old teddy-bear – Softy – clutched in her grip. She was humming some tune quietly to herself, patiently waiting for our journey to begin. I wish I could share in her feelings, but between seeing my father for the first time in years and his vague warning of danger I couldn't calm my frazzled nerves.

Deciding to take a short break and calm the throbbing of my temples, I took a seat beside my daughter and pulled her close. She laid her head on my side, allowing me to draw strength from her. At only six years old – six and a half, she kept reminding me – most thought of her as a silly child with her head in the clouds. To me, however, she was a smart, beautiful little girl who had always been my rock. Raising her at such a young age had not been easy, not by any means. ButI worked hard to give her everything she needed, everything she deserved, and in return she kept me going day by day.

"Mommy, is it time to go now?" I was drawn out of my relaxed state by her small voice. Pulling away with a deep breath, I looked down at her. Seeing my hazel eyes staring back up at me from her tiny face was something I could never get over. She didn't particularly look like me, maybe in the shape of her nose or the way she moved, mostly taking after her father. I was glad she at least resembled me in one way.

"Not yet, sweety. I have to look around again really quickly, OK? Just to make sure we aren't forgetting anything."

"And then we go?"

"Yes." Standing up, I looked through each room. The kitchen, bathroom, and living room were all still pretty much in tact. My father hadn't told me where we would be going – or how long we'd be gone for that matter – but did say we wouldn't need any furniture or dishes. Only necessities.

Moving further down the hall, I looked in on Grace's room. Her bed was perfectly made-up with her purple comforter spread out on top. The familiar hues and shapes of the room drew me in and I was immediately overwhelmed with memories. This had been where I set up her crib, even though she slept with me for the first week. She took her first steps on this floor, her first tumble. There was nothing left so I quietly turned, desperate to escape before the tears started. The short tick marks on the wall stopped me, however.

It was a growth chart I had started for Grace on her second birthday, each line marked with a date and age. I ran my fingers absently over a bold red line that stood out from the others. Grace had been desperate for a growth spurt, or maybe she just wanted to hurry and grow up. Either way she had me measure her each day for a week until one day, while I had been doing dishes, I heard her scream from her room. As a mother, every loud noise your child makes while out of sight immediately puts you in panic mode.

I remember the plate shattering as I dropped it in the sink. The feel of the adrenaline flowing through my veins as I rounded the corner, only to see my baby girl giggleing happily to herself.

_'What's wrong? What happened?' _I had asked.

_'Look, mommy, I grew!' _She had pointed enthusiastically at the wasll where a new mark now proudly showed above the old ones. She put her back to the wall and straightened her back. _'See!' _The uneven red line stood about an inch above her head. After that I had a long talk with her about writing on the walls with markers but never told her that her measurement was a bit off.

Now there were a few more lines above hers signaling her growth for the last few years – all accurate this time. I felt one tear slide down my cheek but quickly pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes to prevent more from following. How would Grace react if she knew her mother had been crying?

The only room left in the apartment was mine, but I had gone over it three times already while packing so there was nothing left. Heading back toward the front, I instructed Grace to grab what she could before closing the door to our home for the last time.

* * *

In his sleek sports car parked right outside was Tony Stark himself. The man never worried or anxiously sat wringing his hands. Or, that's what he would like others to believe. He had never been good with kids, I mean, he hadn't even talked to his own in seven years, what was he supposed to do now that he was a grandfather?

He did not like the sound of that at all.

Sophia alone had been a surprise. He had only been twenty-five, in his prime. A new girl in and out of his bed daily. Needless to say becoming a father had never even crossed his mind. So when a baby quite literally appeared on his doorstep one day it caught him completely off-guard. After having a paternity test done and several failed attempts to find the mother he had unwillingly taken her in. He hired a full-time nanny, an on-call doctor, even bought more supplies than any child could possibly need, but still felt as if her being there was like a cancer.

He didn't know the first thing about raising a child and having a kid would certainly slow him down. That's why it had been so surprising when he became attached.

A sharp wrap at the window brought him back to the present.

"Come on, open up!" She stood on the other side of the door with all of their belongings sitting on the curb, holding the little girl's hand. He tried desperately to remember her name – Gwen? Beth? Pam? - but each time he thought he had it, the name escaped him.

"Alright, Sunshine. Calm down."

"Don't call me Sunshine." The remark seemed to almost come instinctively, surprising the two adults. She had never liked being called Sunshine, feeling it an annoying kid name, but the sudden familiarity of the situation caused a dense silence to fall between them.

"Where does our stuff go?" The girl was studying the small yet expensive vehicle with amazed curiosity. Tony stepped away from the girl casually with his hands in his suit pockets, wanting space between them but trying not to upset Sophia in the process.

"Not in there, short stuff." He ignored the gap-toothed grin she gave him and turned away, looking down the street to where a van with tinted windows was parked. "That's where your stuff will go. And-!" He turned to look at the young girl, "- that's where you will be riding."

"What?" Sophie stepped forward, instinctively placing her daughter behind her. "There is no way I am traveling to god-knows-where without my daughter by my side."

"Soph, listen. We have a lot to talk about-"

"But it can all wait until we get where we're going." She stood her ground firmly, arms folded over her chest with an expression that dared him to challenge her. He was both amazed and annoyed with the changes he noticed in her.

"No, actually, it can't wait-"

"Well there is no way in-" stopping herself mid-sentence, she glanced over at her daughter, "- heck that I am letting her out of my sight for even a moment. Either she comes in the same car as us or this conversation can wait."

"Come on. Look, I personally know the driver and can vouch for him-"

"I'm sure you can, but that's not the issue here. Now, I've given you the two choices. Pick one or I will." The mama bear act was getting a little irritating but he had to admit that it was his stubbornness she had gotten.

"I don't even have a car seat or anything. Besides, where would it go? There are only two seats in my car."

"Yes, but there are plenty in mine."

* * *

Driving through the countryside had always been a relaxing pass-time of mine. When Grace was born, driving was the only thing that calmed both of us down. However, right now I really doubted the scenery would soothe anyone.

"Are you my grandpa?" Grace's voice broke the tense silence we had all been sitting in. I glanced over at the man in question only to see him wearing the same expression on his face I had seen whenever I made him come to a recital or watch me perform in a school play – you know, whenever he _actually_ showed up. Like he was stranded in some strange wilderness with no direction. I know he had struggled through my childhood, but I had struggled through it right alongside him.

"Hey, Grace. Want to listen to some Christmas music?" My father looked at me incredulously from the passenger seat as Grace agreed wholeheartedly.

"It's only November."

"Yeah, well, it's never too early to put a little joy in your life." As I found the right radio station the nostalgic music began filling the car. The rhythmic gibberish from the backseat distracted us from the previous question.

"You know we still have a lot to talk about." He spoke in a loud voice only for my ears. I looked in the rear-view mirror to see my daughter looking out the window, singing about snowmen.

"Then talk."

"I would prefer not to in front of the munchkin." The conversation paused momentarily as the GPS had me take an abrupt right turn.

"You don't even know her name, do you?"

"I only met her a few hours ago, give me a break."

"She's your grand-daughter so you'd better remember it." I saw him physically flinch away from the term out of the corner of my eye.

"Yeah, well, I didn't even know you had a _significant other_ in your life."

"I don't." Silence fell again as commercials began blaring through the speakers.

"You know I never meant what I said, right?" My fingers flexed on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white before I relaxed them, only to repeat the process once again.

"Let's not talk about this right now."

"Then when should we talk about it, huh?" I felt all of the anger and hurt I've been suppressing over the years suddenly surge through my veins.

"What do you want me to say? We both know damn well you meant every word of what you said. It just took that extra bottle of whiskey for the truth to come out." The force of my words rendered him him silent. As my anger slowly ebbed away, I realized that Grace was no longer singing. "Grace, honey, I'm sorry-"

"Are we there yet?" I let my apology drop and checked the GPS to see that we were, in fact, there. Pulling into the dirt parking space, we got out and looked up at the rusted looking warehouse.

"This is the 'safe place' you were talking about?"

"Relax, Sunshine. This is only a pit stop. I ignored the pet name and followed behind him holding Grace's hand in mine. Grace was unusually quiet as we walked up to the entrance so I squeezed her hand lightly in reassurance. She squeezed back.

"Stark!" I turned in response to the name before I remembered I wasn't the only one anymore. A man approached us just as we entered the building decked out in a very patriotic costume. He gave me a brief once over, as if to assess my threat level. Next he took in Grace with a surprised expression. "Is this her?" My father moved past the man, not even sparing him a second glance.

"Yup." He regarded Grace once again with a confused look.

"I didn't know you had a granddaughter."

"Neither did I Capscicle." His tone was colder than it should have been but the man didn't seem to notice.

"Are you Captain America?" Grace looked curiously up at the man.

"Yes, but you can call me Steve. What's your name?"

"My name is Grace Elizabeth Stark. Why are your clothes stretchy?" The man – Steve – seemed caught off-guard by the sudden question, and I couldn't blame him. He looked down at his attire.

"I, um-"

"Amy said you weren't real, but I told her 'yeah huh!' but then she told me that her daddy said you were just pretend and that somebody made you up because they wanted attention."

"I'm sorry, who's Amy?" He looked at me, asking for answers but I was just as lost in my daughter's ramblings as he was. I shrugged.

"She's in my class! But I told her that her daddy didn't know what he was talking about. Then she called me dumb and went to play with Trevor."

"Grace-"

"What's that!" She ran off in the direction her grandfather had gone without even glancing in our direction. I felt a migraine forming but ignored it, instead giving a weak smile to the confused man.

"Sorry about her. She can be a bit... much at times." He waved the apology off and gave me a boyish smile. I wondered if all guys went through some sort of class or something to perfect this type of smile.

"No problem, ma'am. It's nothing I can't handle." I playfully winced.

"Ohhh, I have a problem with the whole 'ma'am' thing. Just call me Sophie, alright?" He nodded.

"Follow me, we'd better get going soon." I opened my mouth to ask a question but then noticed the rather large jet that was taking up space in the room. It was obviously some sort of military craft.

"Well I guess that answers _how_ we're getting to our destination. Now, can someone please tell me _where _we're being taken?"


End file.
